Kevin White

A Moonless Night - Route 7 - South of Middlebury

This is Kevin

Driving north to Middlebury

On a moonless night

For no reason.

He has training on this —

the Astrophysics of arc seconds —

minutes — hours —

shifting of the landscape

in the dark.

He never speaks

outside his competencies

and preaches no

Dead Dogma —

the one about the

Little Vermont Girl

crying under the school desk

for no reason —

flinging pencils at the teacher’s legs —

she hates the associative properties

of whatever-the-fuck

and just wants to go home

to her Mommy.

Kevin has a girl who

Kicks and pinches

When he pries her out

Of the car and carries her

Into the hospital

For her dental surgery.

She screams and screams

For no fucking reason

Mommy, Mommy

I want to go home!

And everyone there

Stares and stares

Like starving little wolves.

I have training:

The endless prowling across

the polished floors,

every night —

the never brushing —

I have degrees in this —

a little Vermont Girl

with no teeth

lives in a closet

where she watches

Mommy and Daddy

Beat the ever loving shit out of each other

every night —

for no reason.

This one does not speak —

This one does not eat —

This one does not write her name

on command —

She hides in the closet

At circle time and does not

Use the potty all day —

She has training on this:

She is a new moon.

This is Kevin.

He threads steel wire

through a hose all night

for no reason.

the night shift —

the polished floors and coffee mugs

and five planets holding hands —

He has trained and trained

And trained on this —

Mindless motor planning.

This is Kevin

Waiting in the Emergency Room all night

for no reason —

the pacing across polished floors.

Drove to Middlebury and back again

thinking about Little Vermont Girl

who said

If you ain’t from Vermont

you never will be —

A You-Can’t-Get-There-From-Here

Sort of thing

As if there were no Jupiter Assist

In the middle of Brandon, Vermont.

don’t ask me —

I was just baptized here.

I once saw a wolf

running across the road

between Brandon and Middlebury —

Little Vermont Girl says

They don’t live around here but

This is no Dead Dogma —

I have training on this.

Once I hit a deer

on its left hind hock —

It jumped into the dark, deep woods,

howling —

This is Kevin:

he is well informed on this —

the howling of deer —

up at 12

up at 2

up at 4

every night for no reason,

calculating Parallax

between Middlebury

and homelessness

while the boys down at the motel

learn their numbers

on Mommy’s Needle.

I have a boy

who knows all his planets

and howls for Mommy every night

when his moonlight goes out.

He has training on this —

dreams of wolves

Eating his tummy in the night

Like a ravenous opiate.

Kevin knows a Little Vermont Boy

whose parents

beat the ever loving shit out of each other

every night

for no reason.

Driving to Middlebury,

I pass the house

where they say a man

beat his wife to death

with a baseball bat

in front of a son —

in front of a daughter —

for no reason —

Let’s not speak of this:

I pass every night

there is no moon —

stare into the deep dark woods

like a hungry — little — wolf.

I have training on this:

all Motor Memory

in the miles that pass before I sleep —

the miles that pass before I sleep.